Ben POV

Ben Williams just had a pretty rough day. He knocked over his bag, spilling out most of its contents. The new recruit from Chicago was a handful. An enthusiastic barely seventeen-year-old. Probably a son of Poseidon or Neptune. Too early to tell which, but Ben talked to the other recruiters and bet fifty bucks it was Neptune. The kid had a temper, especially for rule-breakers, according to the other new recruits. Both gods had quite the temper when riled up but Neptune was known to be more strict, being the Roman form. Things seemed to slow down around him and Ben realized just how stressed he was. Looking out the window, a squirrel was slowly falling off a tree in as if he were on another planet with an extremely weak gravity in a futile attempt to catch a falling acorn. In fact, it took the squirrel a whole minute (in Ben's perspective, counting to sixty) to move a few millimeters. Looking at it for maybe five or so seconds would make you think it was completely frozen in place. He'd begun affecting the flow of time around him. Stupid gods – in general. Not just "the one who sired him" as Ben preferred to call him. His very own He Who Shall Not Be Named (cue the sarcastic hooray). In any conversation, he'd flinch whenever he heard his father's or worse, his father's Greek form's name. Why him, of all the gods and titans?

Why, mother? He depressingly thought. Why not a cool god like Zeus (scratch that, he wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy) or just an Olympain? Better yet, someone like Hermes, the god of lies and just trickery in general? It certainly came in handy with the boy, Tristan McLean. Looking at the calendar, Ben sighed and thought about his time working in this department. The oath Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, coerced the gods into about stopping their child neglect had just so happened to align on Ben's 17th birthday ten years ago (meaning Ben was exactly one year older and was currently twenty-seven) and convinced the president at the time, a child of Bellona, no less, to create the secret Department of Mythological Affairs and Occurrences. It was settled within the following year. It was basically the CIA for the gods or any mythological related activity. Although strangely, Ben wasn't claimed until he hit the fourth week of the demigod training program. He supposed it simply didn't apply to Titans or perhaps just the Roman deities. Either way, it was a pain whenever he felt a powerful emotion. It would either speed up or slow down time based on the situation. He was so stressed, he wanted more time to collect his thoughts and . . .

Well, his demigod (demi-titan?) powers, for better or worse, understood the assignment. The same applied in most other situations. Moment of extreme embarrassment? Speed up the time to make the moment pass instantly. (Geez, that sounded like an overrated product ad).

Ben took a few deep breaths and managed to bring back the time to a standard pace. It was still a bit slow, but it was significantly better than before. In roughly 5 more minutes in the falling squirrel's perspective, Ben had managed to mostly calm himself down and bring the flow of time to a default pace. Ben heard the thump of uneven steps or of someone with a partial limp. Recognizing who it was, he proceeded to pack up all the things that felt out of his bag – a special edition copy of the Last Olympian, an apple, a granola bar and his bottle of water.

"Bad day, huh?" Ben's best friend, Jack Thompson, asked him.

"Define 'bad day,'" answered Ben, trying to stuff the mushy banana into the Ziploc bag along with the bruised apple.

Jack walked over to his friend's side and ruffled Ben's hazel brown hair.

"Quit the act, tough guy. Newbie lash out on the other recruits? Or at least that's what I've been hearing. But fifty bucks still say you're wrong, and it's actually Poseidon," Jack taunted. He heard a sharp sound behind him and quickly whipped his blonde head around to see his twin-sister-slash-Ben's girlfriend, Amelia sharpening her knives out of nowhere.

"We need to head back to the practice course," she said, locking her changing eyes with Ben's amber pupils.

"It's the new Tristan kid. The son of Neptune," she smirked.

Ben was the most powerful demigod among all the officers. His stupid trainee was already in deep water (pun intended) on the first day.

"Ugh. Guys, for the last frigging time, he's a Poseidon kid! The sea was probably just particularly rough that day," Jack stressed, somehow making Ben laugh.

"Like we believe you, idiot. Now, hurry up. The Apollo and Asclepius kid officers are already checking on his injuries. But who the frigging gets injured on monkey bars? I heard he pulled a tendon in his muscle, the weakling," Amelia rubbed in to Ben.

Rolling their eyes, the boys joined Amelia and they sprinted toward the practice course.

Tristan McLean sat on the bench next to course with his left sleeve rolled up for the medics to see the injury better. It seemed like he'd also managed to dislocate his shoulder as it was sitting in a wonky fashion, as if he was stuck on a permanent shrug. Upon the tough of one of the medics, Tristan grimaced and let Ben see his face properly. A couple cuts on the face but not the worst Ben had seen in his years of experience. Either way, the kid, Tristan, was definitely embarrassed. Who the Hades gets cut on monkey bars with an inflatable mattress underneath it?

One of the Apollo child medics, Axel, pulled Ben to the side."I think there was a problem with the equipment–"

"Monkey bars? There's something wrong with the monkey bars?" Ben interuppted impatiently.

"One of the bars rusted and broke. I think he accidentally triggered his powers because he was sweaty. Think he wanted to wipe his hands but was already on. Water rusted and cut through the steel bat. Kid stretched him arms to try to break his fall since he was in a nosedive for no reason, forgetting about the mattress and proceeded to accidentally slash the mattress open and allow him to fall directly on his face," Axel continued without a second thought.

"I thought his arms were outstretched?" Ben asked, suddenly captivated by the story.

"That's why he's embarrassed. His skinny arms gave out, flopping down like Jell-O the second they touched the ground and he face planted into the dirt, hitting a couple pebbles and giving him cuts and bruises," Axel finished.

"Gods of Rome, that's a horrible first day. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy–"

"How 'bout your dad?" It was Axel's turn to interuppt.

"Probably," Ben answered casually like it was normal to wish your father the worst.

Unfortunately, in a lot of people's cases, especially Ben's, it was pretty good luck to wish for karma or crap to befall someone like . . . Him.

Shaking his head, Ben looked back at Tristan. He realized how bad that probably looked to the poor kid. Ben could see it in his eyes.

"Don't worry. It wasn't about you. I was just thinking of something else," Ben said, trying to avoid putting the guy down anyway. It wasn't often a son of Poseidon or (chances are). Neptune was found and claimed. But seeing that Tristan hadn't noticed that most, if not everybody else at the facility was a demigod such as himself, he was probably claimed a lot earlier in life, before he could comprehend it.

Happened with a lot of other demigods. Even Amelia and Jack. The two of them were claimed at around seven or eight years old. No oaths broken, no increased danger because they didn't know who they were. Smart solution. No doubt Athena or Minerva had a hand in that strategy (okay, fine, yes, pun intended, losers).

Ben was about to head back to the recruitment officer and trainers' barracks when he heard a shrill scream.

Must be one of the female recruits, he thought.But of course . . . SIKE. It was Tristan who'd just screamed like a freaking empousa stuck in a Tartarus pimple, just ripe and ready for bloodthirsty revenge.

Ben couldn't help sighing this time, aloud. Axel and Jack on the other hand, were on side, looking like Dionysus decided to make them combust via explosive held in madness.

Amelia had a look of sympathy on her face, like someone left a box of cats in the middle of the road.

Another medic, Elton, was double-checking Tristan's wounds before allowing him back to the barracks. There was no doubt in Ben's mind that this was one of the absolutely worst days a recruit ever had. Except perhaps the day Ben was claimed.

Author's note:

Hi, guys! Thanks so much for reading this!! this is only chapter 1. chapter 2 will take quite a while as I'm prefty busy with other things at the moment. Very new to writing fanfics so i'm open to suggestions via DM. TY again!